


Let Me Sleep Next To You

by Anotherlostblogger



Series: I Don't Want to Sleep Alone [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Emotions, First Time, M/M, Ryan's a Mess but so is Shane in his own way, Some daddy kink because whoops, Working it Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotherlostblogger/pseuds/Anotherlostblogger
Summary: So. They slept together. Now what?





	Let Me Sleep Next To You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback for the first part of this story. <3 Not 100% necessary to read before this but probably valuable! Initially just wanted to give you guys some p0rn as a thank you but uh, feelings, amirite?

Shane wakes in Ryan's bed for the first time with his head pillowed on Ryan's chest.

It's clear that Ryan's been awake for some time, because he somehow managed to sit up a little in bed without disturbing him and got his glasses and his phone, which he is scrolling through, as he pets Shane's head.

He's being petted by Ryan Bergara, something that should be incredibly ridiculous, and laughable, even if Ryan doesn't even seem to notice he's doing it, sort of humming to himself as he thumbs through what is likely the Lakers' Twitter feed from last night.

But it doesn't feel ridiculous.

Shane should possibly be worried about how un-ridiculous it feels, how much he wants to curl up like a cat and purr over the touch, and maybe he subtly leans up into it because suddenly Ryan is looking down at him, a shy smile playing on his face.

His hair looks absurd, it's tufty and everywhere, and could desperately need a comb, and yet Shane feels such a surge of affection at it, at all of the wrinkles in his t-shirt that he has on (why is he wearing clothes?) at the sleep-ruffled nature of his face, how fucking peaceful he looks, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"How'd you sleep?" Shane asks, clearing his throat when it just comes out as a tinny rumble, but Ryan cuts his eyes away, a flush on his cheeks.

"Great," Ryan says, and then he beams at Shane, "Really, really great. I must've slept eight hours."

"Wow," Shane says, and he knows that's a big deal. Ryan rarely got more than five hours of sleep on a daily basis.

"Who knew that Shane Madej made the worlds greatest teddy bear?" Ryan joked, but he wasn't quite meeting his eyes still.

"It might've just been the orgasm," Shane said, equal parts the realist and wanting to see Ryan blush again. Ryan did blush.

"Yeah, well," Ryan said, doing that thing where his mouth was getting a little unhappy and sarcastic, "That's not usually enough for me."

Shane wanted to ask if he meant masturbation, or if he was bringing people home. The scientist in him wanted this information, of course, there was no other reason.

'Do you bring guys home?' the little scientist brain wanted to know. 'Do you fuck them?'

Do you suck them off like you sucked me off last night?

But somehow he knew this wouldn't make that unhappy look on his face go away.

"Well, I'm happy to provide my services any time," Shane said sleepily, and then Ryan was looking at him with wide eyes, and Shane was wondering if he'd said something wrong.

"Oh my god," Ryan was saying out loud like he was coming to this realization. "You're a fuckboy."

He wasn't petting him anymore. Shane wanted the petting to come back.

"I'm not," he defended, "I mean....I'll gladly be _your_ fuckboy if that's what you want."

"Oh my god," Ryan was saying again, scrubbing a hand over his face and knocking into his glasses. "I can't believe I put your dick in my mouth."

"It's not a bad dick," Shane said defensively.

"No, it's not," Ryan agreed miserably. "I would've let you put in m-"

He stopped where that was going and looked at the ceiling. His mouth was doing that thing again, frozen in an embarrassed pout.

Shane suddenly felt that much more awake. 

"Oh," Shane said as it clicked. "You like me."

Ryan's face was red, and he refused to look at him.

"You like, really like me."

"Shut up," Ryan said under his breath.

"No," Shane refused, and he sat up, pressing himself up with one hand until they were at eye level. 

Ryan had really very pretty eyes, but they were hidden behind smudged, sad-looking glasses. 

"Did you know I've had a crush on you since the Test Friends?" Shane asked him, and Ryan's mortified expression softened, blossomed into something like hope.

"Are you serious?" Ryan asked, and he had the look on his face like he did when he thought Shane was just humouring him when he said he heard a noise on location or when Shane refused to argue with him To Be Nice.

"Do you really think I'd tease you about this?" Shane asks him, and to his chagrin, Ryan doesn't immediately say, 'No, of course not!'

"No," Ryan says slowly, carefully, more obediently than anything and Shane realizes he might have a little ways to go in boosting Ryan's confidence in him. 

"But if..." Ryan was saying, looking suddenly more guarded than he had all morning, "If you were just...you know, taking care of me," his face was still very pink, "Like, in a friends-with-benefits way, like, can you just...tell me, now, so I don't....obsess over it, for weeks and weeks, and like, can date other people and stuff, because you know, I kind of...get stuck on something, and it's like, you can do what you want, but-"

Shane grabbed his face in his hands and kissed him.

He shut up that tired, worried brain of his, and showed him he meant business. 

Ryan was trying his best not to melt into it, he could feel that something was holding him back, so Shane pulled back too, saw the embarrassed, hopeful look on Ryan's face and knew words were going to have to come out of his throat as much as he didn't want them too. 

"I'm not going to say the L-word," Shane said, with a light blush on his face, "I mean, until you...want to, but just know it's...on the table."

"It's on the table," Ryan repeated, but he had a small, goofy grin on his face. "And you're just going to let it...sit there."

"I mean," Shane said, pushing his hair out of his face, "Sometimes if you serve it too soon, it's gonna be too hot and burn your little throat."

"I think my throat can handle it," Ryan said, and now Shane did blush, and Ryan was getting cockier with every second. "I think I'm ready to dig in."

"You're gonna...gonna dig right in?" Shane asks, laughing a bit, and Ryan's smile is taking up half his face.

"I'm just..eating up all this love, baby," Ryan says, and oops, he actually said it, but he doesn't look ashamed. 

Ryan is so stupidly brave about feelings, so stupidly open with his heart, that Shane has to kiss him again. He makes teasing, goofy 'nom nom' sounds and bites playfully at his jaw and Ryan lets out a delighted whoop of laughter and gives himself over to it like Shane gives in.

"What was that thing you said you were going to let me do again?" Shane asks against Ryan's neck, and he swears he feels Ryan smile.

✬✬✬

Shane fumbles in Ryan's side drawer for his lube and finds several very interesting things including a long, curved piece of silicone he definitely wants to talk about someday, but now he has Ryan rolled onto his front and asking for it, pushing his ass up in the cool morning air, and Shane couldn't act fast enough. 

 He pours the lube on his fingers and warms it up for him before he's pushing fingers in, one at a time, into a gasping, groaning Ryan, and he has to grab his cock a couple of times, holding it in a vice around the base so he doesn't come too quickly. 

Holy shit. 

It was one thing in the intimacy and cover of night, in the dark, but here in the light of day, seeing all of that tan skin and muscle on display for him, seeing Ryan so open for him is enough to take his breath away.

He wants to take his time with this.

It's hard when a naked Ryan is literally begging him to fuck him, pressing his ass into his hands, around his fingers, and moaning for it, but Shane forces himself to take it slow.

"That's it," he says nonsensically, hushing him as he watches another finger sink in, to the knuckle. "That's a good boy."

 When he's wrapped around him from behind and sinking into glorious heat, it's hard to focus on that mantra, his hands pressing his fingerprints deeper into Ryan's hips, leaving his mark, his claim, for anyone to see.

"Oh, fuck," Ryan says, and Shane's never wanted anyone more, seeing Ryan press his face out, gasping into the pillow. 

He forces himself to take deep breaths and then he's moving, slowly rocking in and out and Ryan rocks with him, rutting into the mattress.   
  
"God, yes," Ryan says. It turns out, Ryan's a talker.

Shane picks up the pace, and so does Ryan's babbling. 

"God, please, fuck, fuck, please, daddy," Ryan gasps, and Shane feels a full-body shiver run down his spine. 

Ryan's got a hand wrapped tightly into the bedsheets, his knuckles going white, and Shane covers it with his own, lacing their fingers together. 

Ryan's too far gone to have noticed his reaction or to have noticed much of anything, not when Shane's fucking him harder than he was a second ago, not when he's pressing his other hand in the dip in Ryan's spine, pushing him down into the mattress. 

Not when he's reaching to grab at the hair at the back of Ryan's neck and tugging it, just enough to make him cry out, until Ryan is saying, "Daddy please, guh, please, please, please," not when Shane reaches down and jerks him off until Ryan is crying out, coming all over his hand. 

"Fuck, fuck," Ryan sobs, as the pleasure turns towards oversensitivity, and Shane pushes him down into the bed, fucks him harder, chasing that sweet release. 

"Do it, guh, do it, Shane, oh, god, daddy, please," Ryan begs, and Shane is coming, harder than he can remember in his entire life, pouring himself out and into Ryan who shivers and groans beneath him. 

Shane fucks him until he's got nothing left to give, until he's lying, plastered to Ryan's back and pressing kiss after kiss into the back of his neck and the nape of his hair. 

Ryan can take it, can take the weight of him over his back, and brings their still unified hands to his lips, and kisses them.

Shane rolls off, and rolls Ryan into the expanse of his open arms.

"You know that I love, you know that I love, that I...I love you," Shane says clumsily, and Ryan traces his mouth with his finger and smiles. 

✬✬✬

Shane doesn't leave Ryan's place that weekend. Even though it means a couple of awkward conversations in the kitchen with his roommates when he comes out wearing Ryan's shirt, even though he knows his own place is private, they hardly leave the bed anyway.

"Can I just, can I just sleep with you," Ryan asks him anxiously when he considers leaving that Sunday night before the week begins and he looks so nervous about asking it that Shane doesn't leave. 

✬✬✬

Things go back to normal during the workweek because that's what life is. 

It's a Monday, then a Tuesday, then a Wednesday night, he tells himself each time he hugs Ryan goodbye after work and walks to his car. 

It's too soon to get all...weird about this stuff. 

So why does he feel so guilty?

✬✬✬

It's Wednesday when he wakes to his phone ringing at around 3:45am.

"Ry?" Shane asks groggily, and he hears Ryan take in a deep gulping breath on the other line and he forces himself to sit up, blinking into the darkness.

"Ryan." 

"I'm s-s-sorry," Ryan sobs, clearly just on the other side of a nightmare. "I know it's late, but can I...can I just, can you just...talk to me for a minute?"

"Ryan," Shane says, his heart breaking, and he fumbles for his shoes and his glasses, pulling on a hoodie and shoving a pair of chinos into his work bag. "I'm on my way."

"N-no," Ryan says, and he can hear him trying to gather himself together. "No, you don't have to...I don't want to be...clingy."

But Shane's already out the door, shaking himself as he gets into his car. He lives about a ten-minute drive from Ryan. 

"It's okay," he reassures him. "I like clingy."

He hears Ryan's tearful voice turn into a laugh. "You do?"

Shane's puts his key into the ignition, turns on his speakerphone. "Hell yeah, baby," Shane says, just to make Ryan laugh, looking over his shoulder as he pulls out into the street. "Really gets my engine running." 

"I can hear that," Ryan says, and he sounds calmer already, less self-conscious. 

Shane goes quiet for a moment as he just drives, listening to Ryan breathe on the other end of the call.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says again. "I'll owe you...breakfast or something." 

"I can do breakfast," Shane says brightly, forcing himself to sound more awake than he feels as he turns down a nearly empty street.

Another two minutes go by as Shane flies by as fast as legally possible, with no one else out on the road.

"This is stupid," Ryan says under his breath. "I can't believe I'm...making you do this-"

"You're not making me do anything," Shane says, and then he's on Ryan's street. 

He hears Ryan take in a deep breath. "Yeah, but-"

"Get your cute butt out here and let me in," Shane says as he pulls up to Ryan's place, parking next to Ryan's car on the street.

The call goes dead, and Shane shoulders his backpack as he strides up the walkway, just in time to see the door open and Ryan's face peers out as the porch's automatic-light turns on.

Ryan looks very small, standing there in his t-shirt and boxer briefs, his beautiful arms crossed protectively over his chest.

"Hi," Shane says, and even if he hadn't been on the phone with him earlier it was obvious that he had been crying.

The moment he reaches the door, Ryan closes the gap and buries himself in Shane's chest.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Shhh," Shane tells him, and he sees one of Ryan's roommates peer out of their bedrooms on the ground floor, taking in the way Shane is holding their friend, and then disappears back into their space.

Shane rocks him back and forth, just there in the entryway, until he feels the stress leave his strong shoulders until he feels him melt into the embrace.

"Shhh."

 ✬✬✬

Ryan's alarm wakes them up a few minutes before Shane's own phone goes off, and they're groggily stumbling around the room, leaving the warmth of their cocoon only because they literally can't afford to get fired.

Shane needs to shave, he thinks as they drive through Dunkin Donuts on the way to work, and he scratches at his chin. 

Ryan gets them really absurdly sized coffees, like the kind he's seen Ryan drinking after a rough night, and he wonders if this is going to be their new normal.

He sees in the way Ryan glances at him, eyes nervous and body language self-conscious as fuck, that Ryan's wondering that too.

He could see it processing through Ryan's brain as they sat in the parking lot and ate that morning:

Shane was a chill guy. Shane didn't do high maintenance. 

Ryan was...the very definition of high maintenance. 

How the fuck was this going to work out? 

"Is this what you eat every day?" Shane asked, shoving three mini hash browns into his mouth. 

"Not every day," Ryan said, but his eyes suggested that maybe some days he went to McDonald's instead.

Shane ate the remaining hash browns in his bag and crinkled it up in his hands into a ball.

"I'm going to get fat," Shane said declaratively, and Ryan laughed.

"You could come to the gym with me," Ryan said, still a little skittish, but hopeful. It was hard to look at him like this. "I go most days before work."

"Sure," Shane said vaguely, and it all began to tally up in his head.  

Late nights, early mornings, going to the gym, eating trash food, arguing about things, and lots and lots of....feelings...all the time. 

"I mean, if you want to," Ryan said quietly, and Shane sipped at his coffee, knowing that this was about more than doing reps with him at the gym. 

 _'Do you want to do life with me?'_ Ryan was asking. _'Can you handle me when I'm a mess?'_

"You know," Shane says, and he pats at his hashbrown baby stomach. "I could get used to this."

Ryan's laugh warmed him from the inside out.


End file.
